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lodge at Pingxiang Old Mill
| Multiple poems at a time |
lodge at Pingxiang Old Mill
寄萍乡密老
Zhao Mingduo
Turn bottle floating in the air like horses twice a year through the eastern Hunan.
Run between the lapel with Huang Meiyu, pillow cool raw neem wind.
Urgent urgently will end with a dead, what power a mere Lu Gou.
Yan lost his old seat long hall, silent room ten feet of flavor.
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